


Remember

by Fayth_Delarosa



Series: Angel of Truth - Emet-Selch [2]
Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Angst and Feels, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst and Porn, BAMF Warrior of Light, BUT GODDAMMIT I FELL INTO THIS SHIP, Canonical Character Death, Developing Relationship, Dubious Consent, Final Fantasy XIV: Shadowbringers, Final Fantasy XIV: Shadowbringers Spoilers, Finger Sucking, Fingerfucking, Fucking, Genderless Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV), I Will Go Down With This Ship, Its one of many ships, Major Character(s), Other, Past Relationship(s), Please remind me, Power Imbalance, Smut, THIS RELATIONSHIP IS DEFINITELY NOT ALL THAT HEATHLY, They take no prisoners, Unhealthy Relationships, Will update tags as they come, because I'm shameless, possible bdsm, this is not a happy ending
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-10
Updated: 2020-01-19
Packaged: 2021-01-26 23:04:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 10
Words: 20,506
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21382069
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fayth_Delarosa/pseuds/Fayth_Delarosa
Summary: “Come now, hero; now you choose to put up a pretense of modesty?” he sneered, “After all this time, now that I’ve explored every inch of that frail, weak body?”You didn’t know how this all started, how things turned out this way. You shudder as his hands ghost over your body. You didn’t want this; you shouldn’t want this.But your heart yearns for it, yearns for him. And you’ve no idea why.
Relationships: Solus zos Galvus | Emet-Selch & Warrior of Light
Series: Angel of Truth - Emet-Selch [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1561234
Comments: 10
Kudos: 89





	1. Time

**Author's Note:**

> I’ll be honest, I am NOT a big fan of Emet-Selch. But, I admit there’s something insanely tantalizing about being with the “bad guy”. I guess I must have a hidden kink somewhere >.>
> 
> Anyways, I am trying my best to capture the essence that is Emet-Selch. I’m also trying to keep it genderless for the WoL (yay inclusion!) but I admit I’m very terrible at doing that; especially considering this has smut…. lots of smut. But I will try my best!
> 
> The chapters may be admittedly very short at times. I'm still unsure of how to flesh out the outline in my mind but I will try my best as I work through it.
> 
> Oh well, enjoy!

“This cannot happen again,” you hissed, your eyes blazing in open defiance. The source of your ire regarded you with a nonchalant expression which angered you all the more, causing you to renew the struggle against the magical bindings around your wrists. You knew it was useless, you were powerless and at his mercy, but it didn’t stop you from at least trying.

Golden eyes stared at you, his face was blank but you could feel him gauging you, as if trying to find something. You sucked in a breath as you felt fingers stroke your arousal and narrowed your eyes at him as a smirk began to appear on his face.

“Ah, the vaunted _Bringer of Light_,” he hissed in a mocking tone, “such false bravado. You need not be so defensive. We both know that while you say _no_, your mind and body speaks _yes,_” you gasped as he emphasized that last word with a particular hard flick against your arousal.

You felt your body squirm, heat pooling within you against your better judgement as expert fingers slowly took you closer to the edge, closer to the fall of release. He knew all the right spots, and you could scoff about his expertise if you were able to manage any coherent thoughts at this point.

Of course he would be experienced; he’s had centuries to perfect his techniques.

Your barely held together train of thought was abruptly broken as you felt his lips latch onto your nipple; giving a particularly hard suck at the same time as his fingers reached deep within you, curling at the right spot. Your breath became erratic and labored, your fingers flexed, itching to grab onto something but unable to do so due to the restraints. You began to shake, the anticipation growing. By the twelve, you were so close, _almost_ there…

And suddenly there was nothing; cold air now the only thing you felt. You opened your eyes –unsure of when you even closed them- and stared incredulously at the being before you; a mixture of need and anger in your eyes.

He only smirked in response, his eyes demanding your attention as he slowly brought his fingers to his lips; sucking on each digit one by one. “Now, now, hero,” he began, a mocking tone to his words, “You need not be so hasty. I have all the time in the world, and I shall enjoy slowly learning about you.”


	2. The Ascian

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Emet-Selch is a terrible person  
But still hot…  
Shit.
> 
> Also, this chapter onwards delves into the first interactions between yourself and Emet-Selch and the beginnings of this messed up relationship.

“Ahem. Is there aught you wish to say to me? A word of _thanks_, perhaps?”

You turned slowly towards the source of that voice. Watching him stare back at you expectantly, arms crossed over his chest. Your fellow Scions spared brief glances at each other, conflicted on what to do. Urianger quickly spoke up, explaining to Y’shotla that said being before them was the one responsible for plucking her from the life stream and saving her life just now. The Miqo'te stayed in contemplative silence for a while before speaking, “Thank you. Differences notwithstanding, you saved my life, and for that I am grateful. But let us turn our attention to more importance matters… ”

You stopped listening then, her voice a distant sound in your ears. You gaze was focused back on him, the Ascian in front of you. Time seemed to slow around you as you studied the being in front of you. There was a part of you that suspected his motives; history was always a great teacher and it ingrained the message that Ascians could not be trusted into your mind. You would be a fool to trust in him and his declarations of being available to lend his aid to you and your companions.

And yet…

This being, this _Ascian_ –your mind reminded you– saved your dear friend. It was something that challenged all of your pre-conceived notions. It would have been so easy for him to feign ignorance, or to lie and say that he was unable to pull her from the life stream. But he didn’t, he _helped_. Briefly, you wondered if this was all part of an act, leading to his endgame but you quickly discarded it. You wanted to try in believe in the best in everyone, even this Ascian before you.

Somehow, his gaze quickly shifted away from Y’Shtola and moved to you, as if he knew that you were watching him. You looked away, just in time to hear the last of Y’Stola’s words, “…not explored its depths without me?”

You blinked a few times, processing the information before replying, “Heavens no. In fact, I was awaiting your return.”

The others didn’t seem to notice your temporary distraction as they continued speaking about their next steps towards the goal of slaying the lightwarden that inhabited the Greatwood. You however, could not shake the feeling of being watched, and you felt goosebumps beginning to form on your skin. There could only be one responsible, the only one that you yourself could not see, or rather, were doing your best to avoid seeing.

Emet-Selch.

You tried you best to ignore the growing awareness, and focused on what your fellow Scions were saying. But by the time you were finally able to tune out the distraction, your friends decided it would be best to head to Fannow to further discuss the expedition. They all nodded amongst each other and began the trek back, leaving you and _him_ behind.

The growing awareness from before doubled in its intensity. And you tried you best to reign in the growing anxiety. “Anything I can help you with?” You asked in a neutral tone; refusing to turn around and face him.

There was a moment of brief silence before you heard his reply, “Mayhap there is. But it is not yet time.” Another stretch of silence filled the air and you turned his words over in your mind. The Ascian was as cryptic as they come and you did not like not knowing the intent beneath his answer. Before you could ask him to clarify himself, he continued, “But I digress, I’m _waiting_ for your show of thanks, hero.”  
  
You whirled around then, the action so quick that you could feel your joints and armor creak in protest. “You what?” you asked, a hint of surprise and incredulity in your words.

He smirked then, the action at odds with your established image of the famed founder of the Garlean Empire. “Your thanks, need I detail how that works? When one wants to express their appreciation f-“  
  
“I’m aware of what it means,” you snapped out, your tone harsher than what you were accustomed to.

But if he was thrown off in any way, he didn’t show it. The bastard. Instead, Emet-Se- the _Ascian_ – your mind reminded you again – tutted in response. “My, my, such a temper in the Warrior of Light. And after all I’ve done to gain your favor and trust.” His gaze fell onto you, calculating, “It would seem that more effort on my part is in order,” he sighed, the action completed exaggerated for effect, “For a champion of Hydaelyn, you certainly don’t play the part of trusting hero well.”

Your fingers curled into a fist as you struggled with stomping down the feelings of annoyance. “For an Ascian, you certainly love to talk a great deal,” you spared a brief glance towards him then, “aren’t your kind better off in the shadows plotting?”

“Ah, but where’s the fun in that?” he stated more than asked, “Besides, I expect to be thoroughly entertained by you, _hero_” he emphasized the last word.

You decided that enough was enough. You wouldn’t allow him the satisfaction of pushing your buttons. You took a deep breath, closed your eyes for a moment as you assembled yourself back into being as neutral as possible. “Thank you,” you breathed out, letting the words hang there briefly.

When you heard no response you opened your eyes.

Only to find that he was no longer there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pompous Brit? Yes, please.


	3. Revelation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You know, Emet-Selch is possibly the first villain in this game that I actually felt bad for. I mean, Nidhogg is a close second. Tragic baddies get me every time.  
Dammit SE.

The breeze gently ruffled the leaves that still clung desperately to their branches. While you could not discern whether it would be night or day under the canopy of the giant and ancient trees around you, you could certainly feel the shift in atmosphere. The Greatwood seemed calmer, the life it housed at peace. Yet you were not able to fully bask in the joy of being able to slay the lightwarden of the Greatwood and return the veil of night to its people.

No, your mind instead twisted and turned at the revelation given to you just earlier. A revelation that shook you to your core.

_“They are gods after a fashion, yes, but no different from the kind with which you are so intimately acquainted. Formed of faith and prayer, of conviction and devotion…. The eldest and most powerful…of primals”_

While your mind protested at even the thought of considering anything he said as true, your heart seemed to be of a different path. As you replayed the event over and over, you felt a strange lurch in your heart. It was not just the words that were said, but the _feeling_ behind them. While you were not always the best judge of character, your trials and tribulations have afforded you the opportunity to hone your skills of being able to perceive false tones and emotions. Yet, no matter how many ways you tried to look at the past events, there was no denying that his feelings at that moment were real.

Hurt.

Pain.

Anguish.

Sorrow.

Feelings that resonated with your own.

And that was the strangest thing. Your face scrunched in confusion. While his words did not call to mind anything that you’ve heard before; somehow, your heart told you differently. Your heart seemed to echo the feelings that he expressed. It was almost as if it were a memory long forgotten; although that would be impossible. You were no Ascian. You are an adventurer, a Warrior of Light or Darkness –depending on the realm – but still _mortal _in the end.

_“Now do you see why we yearn for the great rejoining? For our world…for our people…for all creation to be made whole again. Wouldn’t you wish for the same?”_

And you would. Deep in the darkest recesses of your mind you knew that, had the roles been switched, you too would desperately look for anyway to bring back your loved ones. But that was where your similarities ended. For although you could understand his motivation, it was his actions that gave you pause. You likened him to an expert Mahjong player; expertly moving pieces in his favor, except the pieces in this case were _lives_. People with their own hopes and dreams. People with their own sorrows and regrets.

And your conscious could not let that go unanswered.

A life for a life would only lead to an endless chain of death and sorrow. In his journey to bring back his loved ones, he has forsaken the lives of countless others. You could not let that happen; so you must stay the course.

You turned on your side in the hammock, trying to will the sleep to finally take you to no avail. Suddenly, you felt a slight shift in the atmosphere. The feeling was new, and yet somehow it felt known to you. You closed your eyes and took a breath before stating, “You could always walk as a normal being would.”  
  
There was a brief moment of silence before the all too familiar voice replied, “That would be no fun.”

You rolled your eyes at his answer, turning over to face him. Your eyes met pools of gold returning the gaze you gave them. You should feel anxiety, as your weapon was away from your reach, yet somehow you knew that he would not harm you. “Was it all true?” you asked with no need to elaborate, you were sure he understood your question well.

He simply stared at you before sighing in exasperation, “By your twelve, have I not told you that I would not lie?”

“Then why. Why tell us?”

“Because you asked the right questions,” he simply replied.

You turned over then, your gaze looking up towards the wooden carvings etched into the covering of the hut. You stayed in contemplative silence for a while before asking another question, “And where would I fit into your grand scheme? I doubt you would divulge us with this tale simply to strengthen comradery.”

“You would be right,” you heard him say, “Like I’ve said before, I wish to see if you are worthy of becoming an ally.”

“An ally,” you echoed, closing your eyes before continuing, “and what would that entail, pray tell?”

You heard him tut in response, the sound a lot more close than you would like. Your eyes opened again to meet pools of gold, said owner of those eyes now hovering _over_ you. “You’re not asking the _right_ questions,” he replied, emphasizing the work right.

If you could, you would process those words and ask him more; try to obtain some more information that could be of use to you. But at the moment you could not, his proximity near you a glaring distraction. “Personal space,” were the words that left your mouth before you could even think them through.

He quirked an eyebrow in response to that vague statement, “Uncomfortable, are we?”  
  
“No, I just like my personal space,” you replied, the words more thought out this time around.

“Interesting,” was all he said. You were hoping that he would move away from you. But if anything, he got closer. You felt your heartbeat increase while you remained motionless, his face hovered mere inches above your own and you feared any movement on your part would close the gap between them. He openly studied you, although you were unsure of what it was he was even looking for. You took the time to study him as well, doing your best to quell the frantic beating of your heart and to not show any sign that could be interpreted as fear or discomfort.

You weren’t afraid of him per say, but his actions did give you pause. He was wildly unpredictable and you did not like that. For all the adventures you’ve undertaken and the monsters you’ve slain, there was always a trend between them. Moves that were familiar, actions that could be predicted and avoided. But with him there was no set pattern; there were no foreseen movements, there was no strategy that you could formulate to counter him.

You continued to look over his face. You’ve never taken the time to before then, preferring to stay as far away from him as possible and avoid unnecessary contact. But now you had time, whether you want it or not. He l weary, worn down by the years although his face looked to be as youthful as his portraits in the Garlean records that you’ve seen in the past. By all rights, he should be long dead now, yet he was here. _He’s an Ascian_, your mind echoed, reminding you that while he wore the face of a mortal, he was anything but.

Without realizing it, your gaze lingered on his lips, and you felt your heart speed up again. You cursed inwardly; this was not supposed to happen. While he was by no means unattractive, he was the _enemy_. You took a breath, the sound shakier than you would’ve liked; and you began to hate your traitorous heart and body.

Whatever he was looking for, you couldn’t tell if he found it. His face remained impassive and he pulled away from you and created much needed space between you. You sat up, and your eyes quickly locked onto your weapon. His gaze followed yours, and noticed where you attention went.

“Now, now, hero, I’ve not come to fight,” he sighed, putting his hands up in mock surrender.

“Then why have you come?” you asked.

“Merely to sate my curiosity on a matter.”

“And did you find it?” you asked, you gaze moving back to meet his own.

He smirked, “Time will tell.”  
  
You were about to open your mouth to ask that he elaborate but within the blink of an eye, he was gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THIS REVELATION KILLED MY SOUL; AND ALL I THINK ABOUT IS ARE WE ALSO SUNDERED TOYS FOR HYDAELYN?


	4. Resistance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So here I am, trying to figure out how to walk that fine line of weaving cannon stuff with this beautifully fucked up ship in my mind.
> 
> I’m not sure, I think I might have overdone the story-telling part? I’m not sure how much becomes too much but there was a lot I wanted to explore from the WoL/WoD side. The conflict within us as the hero to stay the course of what’s right; even at the face of endless loss sets my little social worker brain into a frenzy.
> 
> I’m basically trying to set our frame of mind as we continue delving into this and then weave in Emet-Selch and how he contributes to our conflict…….in more ways than one..hehe.  
Anyways, spoilers galore if you haven’t done the Shadowbringers MSQ yet.
> 
> You have been warned!

_“I must stay the course. For the others.”_

You repeated those words in your mind, like a mantra. The same words you uttered to Ardbert a few hours prior while in your room at the pendants. The same words you repeated to yourself even as you see another soldier take a mortal wound from one of the various sin eaters that were in your immediate surroundings. You ran as fast as you could, the usual burning feeling in your legs completely numbed out by the continued pumping of adrenaline coursing through your veins. You lifted your weapon in retaliation, your strike aimed true, and the sin eater slumped to the ground with a screech. And yet you could not stop, for you had to save whoever you could.

And so you continued running.

* * *

“Forward! _Forward_! If you can still hold a sword, follow me! Wounded, to the rear! Weapons at the ready! Let’s make this count!”

You heard the words of the Crystarium officer ring out behind you, rallying what little was left of the remaining troops. You heard the remaining officers shout, the clang of weapons sounding off behind you while they did their best to keep their spirits up. You did not look back, instead opting to move forward. The sound of chainmail was heard from behind, as well as a dozen or so footsteps, yet still you trailed onwards without looking back. You had a set goal; to finish purging this region of the remaining sin eaters and save as many lives as you could. You must stay the course. For the others.

* * *

Time had gone by but eventually you and the remaining soldiers were able to push back against the remaining sin eaters. Now you found yourself back at The Ostall Imperative. Here, the soldiers came to regroup and tend to the wounded and that was where your eyes recognized a familiar Vii propped up against a stone railing, her gaze distant. You hesitated for a while before deciding to approach Lyna and ensure that all was well. Her pink eyes looked up and met yours and you could tell that there were tears that were shed but chose not to comment on that.

“Oh.” She began, “I did not see you there. Is there something you need?”

You shook your head, “No, no, I’m fine. How are you feeling?”

“Injuries are part and parcel of battle. While there’s breath in my lungs, I shall see my duties done.” Lyna then stood up before continuing, “Don’t pretend you are not of the same mind. You fought well today. Save a great many lives. Thank you.”

You stayed silent then, because while she may have been aiming to deflect away from your earlier question, her statement only served to remind you of the great many lives that you _failed_ to save.

If Lyna was able to sense your unease, she did not show it. “Unfortunately, this war is far from over. We must replenish our ranks and shore up our defenses before they attack again. Now, if you will excuse me.” Lyna ended with a salute, one that you had become so accustomed to seeing from the Crystarium guards and moved to take her leave. You turned to watch her walk away, only to catch when she let out a strangled groan of pain, her hands clutching at her right leg before losing her balance and falling.

You quickly ran over to her and knelt beside her, trying to figure out what to do. You were about to ask her what ailed her but she quickly spoke up before you could let the words out, “I…am fine…” she bit out, “Completely…and utterly…fine!” she punched the stone ground, “Better than fine!” another punch, “Hale and hearty and still alive to mourn those who are not,” another punch, “Who I failed to protect when they needed me most.” You heard Lyna’s voice crack towards the end, and you felt the immense sadness radiating off of her form, yet she still continued, “We’ve come so far – so _godsdamned_ far! I could have sworn the end was in sight. And now…. Now they will never see it.”

You remained silent and looked away, your own guilt being amplified by hers. What could you even say? What comfort could you offer to her when she lost her whole squadron? Her allies, her comrades, her friends? You’ve known that feeling well, walked with it since as long as you could remember. You’ve known countless losses, and you knew that there were no words that could lessen that guilt, that _burden_ that would weigh on your shoulders.

Thankfully, you were spared from having to think of how to respond by the cackle of a familiar and cruel voice over some sort of amplification system. “Impudent worms of the Crystarium.” You looked up, and noted several airships flying above the Ostall Imperative; the all too recognizable colors of Eulmore a stark contrast to the night sky.

“The tragedy that has befallen you is of your own making. Divine retribution for your defiance. The heavens have bequeathed to you a benevolent savior – me! I offer you freedom from pain and suffering – a paradise where man and sin eater might live in peace and harmony… Why, already our winged brothers and sisters regard me and mine as kin, alike to them in beauty and purity! But you – you not only reject my proffered hand, but raise your own against my sin eaters. ‘Tis only right that they respond in kind. Let this be a lesson to all those who would walk the path of sin – the wicked shall not inherit this world!”

Your eyes remained glued to the passing airships, inwardly cursing Vauthry and his damned words. But staying here and thinking of colorful words to say to that complacent whelp of a lordling would do you no good; and so when you met with your fellow Scions you decided it best to return to the Crystal Tower and regroup.

* * *

Upon returning to the tower, you and your fellow Scions appraised the Exarch of the recent events; you decided to be brief in your descriptions, never one to over expand unless explicitly asked to. The Exarch listened to your recounting of events with keen interest; waiting until you finished before he spoke up, “My friends. With your aid we have weathered a brutal assault.”

Before he could continue, the sound of a door being opened reached everyone’s ears and they all turned simultaneously to see who the new person was. Your eyes met the all too familiar visage of golden eyes and Garlean robes walking through. The atmosphere suddenly shifted to one of annoyance. You glanced over at your friends and noted that some shrugged while others openly shook their heads in exasperation of the unwelcomed visitor. Yet he remained unperturbed by the others reactions.

He walked closer to the group, coming to a stop a short distance from you “Sorry I’m late. Though I would not have been had anyone thought to notify me in advanced.”

You thanked the twelve that the Exarch was quick to continue and spared you and the others from having to respond to his pointed remark. “…As I was saying, it was only with your aid that we weathered this assault. Without it, the Crystarium and all who dwell here would now be gone.”

“For each we saved, another perished.” Alphinaud quietly replied. “If there is anything else we can do to help – anything at all – you need only ask. This is our home too, and we want nothing more than to keep it safe.”

The Exarch nodded toward Alphinaud, “Thank you. We are blessed to have you with us.” He then turned his gaze back towards the group, “As for the attack itself – Vauthry may call it divine retribution, but sin eaters are creatures of instinct. A coordinated assault is unprecedented. Moreover, in the absence of a Lightwarden, there should have been no compulsion for lesser sin eaters to congregate here en masse. All of which points to a single, unavoidable conclusion…”

“…That these minions of light answer to a high power,” Urianger finished, voicing the thoughts that echoed in your mind. “He who did claim kinship with them – who did boast of control, not in idleness, t’would seem, but in earnest. Lord Vauthry.”

The room remained eerily silent; everyone in the room processing the implications.

“Indeed,” the Exarch confirmed, breaking the moment of silence, “What I mistook for bluster was in fact the truth. The sin eaters are his to command. But if he imagines this show of force will convince us to bend the knee, he is sorely mistaken.”

“I take it your meeting in Eulmore did _not_ end well?” Alisaie asked, not one to dance around subjects; much like yourself.

“You could say that, yes.” The Exarch replied, “But I am wiser for the experience, nevertheless. It appears he has mastered a technique which allows him to enslave the minds of others. A fact I discovered when he attempted to use it on me.”

You felt more than saw the shift between the others, their bodies becoming tense at that revelation. It even gave you pause, as you processed the words in your mind. An army of mindless drones, willing to give body and soul without being fully aware of it. Mere puppets hanging from strings; all at the mercy of Vauthry and his whims. Anger welled up inside you then, towards the people who were helpless to decide their fate as well as the puppet master pulling at their strings.

“That would go some way towards explaining the peculiar reverence afforded him by his subjects,” Alphinaud mused aloud. “There may feasibly be a handful of true believers among them, I suppose, but it would not surprise me if the vast majority were in his thrall.”

The Exarch nodded in agreement, “Had I not anticipated his treachery, I might well have joined them. But seeing his invitation for what it was, I sent a glamour in my stead. I rather doubt such tricks will avail me a second time, however.”

Did you have any luck tracking down the Lightwarden in Khlusia?” Alisaie asked Alphinaud.

Alphinaud shook his head, “Sadly, I have nothing to report on that front. What of Amh Araeng?”

“After a fruitless few days scouring ruins, I resorted to asking the locals,” Alisaie began, “While no one I spoke to had seen any sign of the Warden, I did uncover a possible lead: an abandoned mine in western Amh Araeng. From what the Mord told me, it would be a perfect place to stay out of sight. Of course, I could never hope to explore such a labyrinth quickly ort safely on my own, so I returned here.”

Y’shotla spoke up then, a pensive look on her face, “Even should we all join in the endeavor, an exhaustive search could take weeks – and with no guarantee of finding anything.”

The young Minfilia looked down briefly, lost in thought before lifting her gaze back towards the group, “The Wardens harbor vast reservoirs of primordial Light, do they not? Far beyond anything found in lesser sin eaters. And isn’t it true that the Oracle could see the Light of a sin eater from malms away? Surely a Warden would seem like a blazing beacon by comparison?” Minfilia paused briefly before continuing, “To the real Oracle of Light, I mean. The real Minfilia.”

You cast a look towards Thancred then, and noted the shift in his body language. The gunblade wielder became tense, his eyes cast downwards, as if in conflict of what to say.

Minfilia continued her gaze directed straight at Thancred, “If we traveled to Amh Araeng, to the south where she halted the Flood, I could summon her back..... What do you think?”

You were no fool. You knew why she looked straight at Thancred. You had sensed the conflict within him for a while. Because he knew, he knew the cost of Minifilia of the First summoning the one from the source.

Thancred’s eyes remained downcast, thinking over her words. Everyone around you remained silent, knowing that this moment was one that Thancred would have to weather if he ever wanted to move forward. His eyes opened then, his gaze hard and distant as he locked eyes with Minfilia. “…Don’t.”

If anything, that only served to fuel the young child’s anger, she took a step forward in defiance, “Don’t what? Do what I can? What we both know is right!?”

“Do not presume to know my mind. You have no idea what you’re proposing.”

“But I do!” Minfilia argued, “I know why you never said anything. Because you thought you could keep me safe by keeping me in the dark. And,” Minfilia shook her head is dismay, “…maybe I thought so too. But I knew, Thancred. I always knew!”

Thancred crossed his arms in front of his chest, whether to keep himself grounded or to appear sterner you couldn’t tell.

“Oh, I see…I thought you were a rather underwhelming reincarnation, but it all makes sense now.”

You and the others turned towards the source of that latest comment. The obviously unwanted guest, Emet-Selch. You gaze narrowed in his direction, praying to any of the Twelve that would listen to stop him before he continued speaking. Maybe if they could also make him disappear…

Instead, his eyes landed on yours and you could see the cockiness in his expression become more pronounced, his eyes issuing a challenge to yours.

“The Oracle lies dormant within you, doesn’t she?” He mused aloud, his hand to his chin, “But to draw on her true power, you must become one, both body and soul.” His tone turned towards one of amusement, as if reveling in a hidden joke, “To wit, one must consume the other. Who shall be the lucky winner?”

You felt anger well up from within you at his almost lighthearted tone. This wasn’t a matter of what to plan for the day, or a simple _joke_. This was a matter of life or death on both a small and a grander scale. On one end, the young Minfilia, on the other….

All of what remains of Norvandt.

You began to open your mouth to interject, to stop him before he could continue lest he cause further escalation of an already delicate situation, but Thancred beat you to it.

“This doesn’t concern you, _Acsian_,” he hissed.

Emet-Selch only smirked in response, “But it plainly concerns you. Which is why your heart is ready to burst out of your chest. Despite the raging tempest in your bosom, however, you have never once opened up to your charge. Now why would that be?”

Thancred looked away, refusing to answer; his hands curled into fists at his sides, his whole body tense. However you were sure that yourself and the others were easily able to guess as to the reason why.

“Love…?” Emet-Selch ended, vocalizing everyone’s thoughts. “Well, I for one think it’s a marvelous idea. Certainly more promising than any of your other suggestions. So-it’s off to Amh Araeng we go!”

Thancred spared a glance to Minfilia, whose own gaze was down, her eyes closed, refusing to meet his before looking back towards the others. “I’ll meet you at the gates,” he stated in a tone so cold and disconnected that it gave you pause. For all the time you had known him, he rarely if ever held such an icy demeanor.

With that, Thancred turned and walked away, leaving an uncomfortable and almost stifling silence behind him. The other Scions looked at each other, as if unsure of what to do. Minfilia’s body shook and her eyes seemed to become glassy; the threat of tears plain for all to see, and you began to step towards her until you felt a hand around your wrist. You looked back to Urianger who simply shook his head, as if to signal that for now they should leave things be.

You glance went back to Minfilia briefly before landing right on Emet-Selch, his insufferable smirk still in place.

You couldn’t remember a time you wanted to kill someone more than you did now.

* * *

The others filed out then, leaving you and the Exarch alone within the Ocular. You nodded towards him briefly, “We shall keep you updated.”

The Exarch nodded back, “Safe journey, my friend.”

With that you moved to leave the Ocular. Your steps felt heavy as you processed the implications of what was exchanged earlier. That the young Minfilia would have to summon your own Minfilia. That one would have to consume the other.

That another life would have to be lost…

As soon as the doors to the Ocular closed behind you, you felt a shift in the aether. It should have startled you, and yet it didn’t. Because you knew that there was only one being that could appear where-so-ever they pleased. “Are you here to gloat?” you asked, refusing to look at the being behind you.

“I merely pointed out what you all were so willing to ignore.”

You felt your hands clench at their sides, “And what? Mock us?” your whole being was becoming a raging storm of anger and frustration. It was something that was happening more and more frequently, you noted absently. And the biggest source of your rage was standing just behind you. “What would you know of love for another,” you began, your voice taking on a harsh tone. You turned around to face him, you wanted him to see you and you wanted to see him in turn, “You manipulate others to your whim. You created a civilization for the sole purpose of bringing about chaos and destruction. You orchestrated countless catastrophes,” you stepped closer to him, no longer heeding the warnings sounding off in your mind.

Because you wanted to let it all go. You wanted to free the feelings that you’ve held onto for so long. You were tired, _so tired_ of staying strong for the others. These last few moments were the last drops that caused the cup you’ve tried so hard to keep your emotions in to spill. And he would bear the brunt of your anger and sorrow. “You, who’ve discarded lives and regarded us as little more than ants beneath your heel. What would you know of love?! What would you know of loss?!”

As you spoke, you noted the shift in his demeanor. You should’ve been afraid.

Instead, it only served to further fuel your anger.

“You dare presume to know of me?” he began, his voice low and laced with danger, “You would dare to speak to _me _of sacrifice? You know _nothing_!” he hissed.

“Then tell me!” you hissed back, “I tire of your games, Emet-Selch!”

Before you could even blink you felt his hand at your throat and your back slam into one of the crystal walls. Your breath left you upon impact, and your vision became slightly blurred as you fought to regain some semblance of control. Your hands clutch at his, trying to pull him away, trying to ease the pressure against your throat but unable to do anything. His face came closer, hovering mere ilms from yours. His eyes narrowed and within those golden pools were barely restrained rage. His other hand came up and you shut your eyes, preparing for him to strike you.

Instead, you felt a soft caress against your cheek. Your eyes flew open and instantly met his, confusion clear in your gaze. His hold on your neck lessened, and you greedily began to gasp in air, your throat burning from the strain. His touch was smooth, the silk of his glove a cool caress to your heated skin. It began from your cheek, slowly moving lower and running down the length of your arm. His touch raised goosebumps in its wake. It felt intimate, _too intimate_ considering he also held you against the wall.

Considering he was your enemy.

“I have lost more in just _one_ lifetime then you have in yours,” he whispered harshly, “Do not presume to speak as if you know me. Especially when _you don’t remember_.”

“Then share,” you spat back to him. “You claim to be an ally. You claim that you would lend us your aid. Then I ask for transparency. You know of my story, when will I know yours?” You tried to remain angry at him, but it was becoming difficult to maintain your hold on those emotions; especially as you continued to look at him. Emet-Selch gazed into your eyes, unflinching, seemingly searching for something. Whatever it was, it appeared that he did not find it since he simply shook his head slightly and the insufferable cocky smirk came back into play.

“You’re still not asking the _right_ questions,” he stated simply in response, “but worry not, dear hero. When the time comes, you will find out that truth that you are searching for. Until then….”

He suddenly came closer to you, if at all possible, his eyes penetrating you, starting from your eyes, to your nose, and finally landing on your lips. You yelped in surprise, feeling his lips against your own. It was a harsh, bruising press of lips. It felt urgent, it felt heated.

It felt good.

Just as soon as he started, he stopped and stepped away from you, letting go of his hold on your neck. His smirk became wider at your dazed expression before turning around and walking away. “Until next time, bringer of light,” he called out, his hand coming up in a dismissive wave as he disappeared in a portal of pure dark aether.

You felt your body slide down against the wall, staring at the spot where he disappeared; a shaky hand coming up to hover just above your lips. A pleasant hum remained from the kiss.

Your anger was all forgotten.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh boy…  
It begins.


	5. Restless

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes I think our little WoL/WoD is a poor frustrated soul. Imagine, gallivanting throughout the realm saving countless souls. Where is there any time for smut?
> 
> Our hero deserves better, I say!

You awoke in a slight daze, your legs protesting with the movement. You realized several things at once; the first was that you had somehow managed to fall asleep in a kneeling position, the second that you were still in Amh Araeng, and lastly that there was a very solid weight on your lap.

You peered down to see a head of red hair resting peacefully, and momentarily you panicked, were was Minfilia? But you soon realized that said child _was _Minfilia; her clothes and face were the same, but her hair had been changed. A new identity…liberated from the legacy of Minfilia.

Surely, it was the greatest gift your Minfilia could give the child on your lap.

A life free from the burdens of her past lives. A life with which she can freely choose her own path.

You thought back to the events that had just occurred, the vision showing you the moments of the flood – the final moments of Minfilia and of the Warriors of Darkness save one – Ardbert.

_“Your time has not yet come. When all hangs in the balance, you must give them hope.”_

_“But not even the most vailiant heroes can stand alone. Only _together_ may you change the fate of two worlds.”_

Such a cryptic message, and you once again found yourself a bit irritated that people could not, for once, simply give you a straight response.

Still, you mulled over the rest of your interactions with Minfilia, the one from the Source. You felt a pang of sadness, a life taken so early, a sacrifice that left many lost and affected in its wake. Especially Thancred, who always appeared to be carrying an endless weight of pain and regret upon his shoulders.

* * *

_You quickly moved, grabbing the child Minfilia from her arms to prevent her from falling. _

_“Do not fret, friend, she is merely sleeping. She will awaken anon.” the older Minfilia said, which quickly eased your fears._

_You nodded once towards her, carefully lowering yourself to your knees to lay the child’s head on your legs. You looked back up to Minfilia, who stared at you with nothing but care for you in her eyes._

_“Minfilia,” you began before pausing; unsure of how exactly to frame your question. Unsure if you wanted to know the answer, if there even was one._

_“You have questions, speak freely my friend for I fear I’ve not much time left.”_

_“What do you, or rather Hydaelyn, know of me?”_

_“Aside from you being her chosen champion, you mean?”_

_“Yes,” you nodded, “I mean more of my past…”_

_Minfilia regarding you with a curious gaze, “You soul is indeed old”_

_“Old as in…as in an Ascian soul?” you asked. _

_You recalled your last interaction with Emet-Selch; more specifically when he stated that you didn’t remember. Those words turned over constantly in your mind, and you tried, you really did, to consider what he meant by those words. Had something been said to you before? Or was it more than that, could his words imply that you somehow should know because you were there? No matter how much time you’ve reflected on it, the only result would be headaches and more questions._

_ Minfilia tilted her head to the side, as if debating how to answer your question, “Older than I can tell, though if you soul is that of an Ascian…I could not say. That is a road that you must travel on your own. But…”_

_“But what?” you asked, desperate for some type of answer at this point. _

_“I can reveal to you a name that is ingrained within your being.”_

_“What name? Please, I need to know the truth.” You pleaded._

_A blinding light began to radiate from Minfilia’s form, enveloping her and washing away the surroundings. You squinted your eyes against it, only catching a brief glimpse of a smile, only able to pick up one word before you felt yourself lose consciousness…_

_“Persephone.”_

* * *

The rest of the day went by as a blur. You and Minfi–_Ryne_, your mind corrected, were able to regroup with the Scions and continued on your journey to slay the Lightwarden of Amh Araeng.

Which was something you were able to do, except…

Your hand came up to your chest, still feeling an uncomfortable sting even hours after your journey to Malikah's Well. It was nowhere near the soul shattering levels of pain you had felt back then, but the fact that a fraction of it still persisted had bothered you.

Still, night has finally returned to Amh Araeng, which was of great comfort to you.

You laid on your bed and closed your eyes.

Where so ever this path would lead, you would continue to walk it.

The Exarch was right, you had to survive this…

No matter what.

* * *

You awoke with a start, your body jerking to sit upright on the plush bed. For a moment, you felt lost, your eyes frantically moving from side to side before you were able to register that you were still in the Pendants. Your heart was racing, threatening to burst out of your chest while you processed the dream you just had. It was peculiar; you thought you saw Biggs but you were not sure. It didn’t seem like him, not exactly at least. You wondered whether it was truly a dream or if it was another vision courtesy of the echo. And that book, you’d recognize the handwriting anywhere and, even if you couldn’t, there was no mistaking the signature at the end: Count Edmont de Fortemps.

As you continued to ponder, you heard a soft knock against the door. You hauled yourself out of bed, briefly shaking you head in an attempt to dispel the last bits of sleepiness before you walked over to the door and opened it, only to see the inn keeper at the other side.

“My apologies, but the Exarch has sent word that he would like you to meet with him and the others at the Ocular,” the inn keeper stated as he bowed slightly to you.

“I see, thank you.” You replied, your thoughts now on what could be so important as to hold a meeting so early in the morning. You had been so consumed in your own world that you barely registered the inn keeper bidding farewell and leaving.

* * *

The doors to the Ocular opened automatically upon your approach; and within the room stood all of the Scions, the Exarch, as well as a face that you should have been surprised to see but were not…

Emet-Selch.

The Exarch was the first to notice your arrival, a small smile on his lips as you approached. “Ah, there you are. May I assume you’ve had your fill of rest?

You smiled and nodded your head in response. It was a lie, of course, but you couldn’t let them know that.

Thankfully, the Exarch seemed to believe you. “That is well. Now that we are all present, let us speak of our plan.”

And so they did. The others spoke of their plans towards slaying the last of the Lightwardens, the one that occupied Kholusia. The energy in the room was charged, hope palpable among the Exarch and the Scions. If the last warden could be slain, then this could mark a new beginning for the First. The people of Norvandt could finally look towards rebuilding and recovering rather than simply surviving.

So close to saving the First and, in turn, saving the Source.

Y’shtola was the first to acknowledge the very unwelcomed guest in the room. “Do you hear? Your dreamed-of-Rejoining is in jeopardy. Are you sure you’re not tempted to intervene?”

He shrugged and shook his head, a smirk threatening to appear on his lips, “You labor under the misapprehension that vanquishing the sin eaters is tantamount to saving the world. It is not. In truth, you only delay the inevitable, lengthening your fleeting lives by the smallest of margins.”

His eyes scanned the room, watching as the faces that previously held hope and joy become solemn again before landing on your face, irritation and confusion clear in your gaze. “Twould be churlish of me to deny you this small concession, close as we’ve become. Foolish and misguided though you are, you are not without charm. Each and every one of you is possessed of a noble heart.” He paused, his look towards you becoming more intense, although you were unable to discern what feeling he held in that gaze “When the weak want for succor, you do not hesitate to provide it. Alas, your nobility is shortsighted. You think only of the problem in front of your nose. A limitation of your ephemeral existence.”

Alphinaud spoke up then, his arms crossed over his chest and an expression of determination on his face, “Our lives may seem short and insignificant to the likes of you. But one does not need to be an eternal being to achieve lasting change.”

“Ah,” Emet-Selch interjected, turning his gaze towards the young elezen, “if I may stop you there-I do not claim that we Ascians are _special_. That is another misconception.” His eyes swept back over the other Scions before again landing on yours, his look intense, as if trying to convey something to you, “In the beginning, everyone–_everyone_ lived night for eternity. Such was the natural order of things. But like so much else, this was taken from you.”

You grew weary of his hidden messages, you mind repeating the last part over and over again. That it was taken from _you_. What did that mean? Had he meant from everyone? But no, his gaze was solely on yours, his stare piercing right through you. You somehow knew that he wanted to convey that message solely to you; which only had you wonder more and more about who you were, or rather what you were in the past. You squared your shoulders in response, “Well then, care to share what it is that was taken from us, considering that we don’t remember?”

He made a show of considering your question, his hand under his chin, “Well, since _you_ asked so nicely…” his gaze went towards the Exarch, “You won’t object if I borrow your plaything.”

He didn’t wait for an answer, instead lifting his hand up and with a snap of his fingers the room changed.

And he began to explain.

* * *

You laid on your bed in Amity; it was a small and completely bare room compared to the Pendants. The room had an almost too small cot and a chair at the corner. The walls seemed barely held together and there were cracks and holes within the wooden planks; allowing a slight breeze to run through. Yet you were grateful for such a space, as it was better than braving the elements outside Amity. You and your comrades were about to access the previously unreachable part of Kholusia; a great part of it owed to the Eulmore citizens working together to restore the Talos and restart the lift that had been abandoned for who knows how much time.

You remained completely numb in your shock from all the events that passed today. It was a strange sensation that you only really felt once or twice when you felt on the brink of collapsing from some of your more rigorous battles. You maintained a calm and steady breath in an effort to keep your mind clear and slowly began to process all the different events that occurred in just one day.

You began with what happened at the Ocular. The words had already been said before; the story of the sundering and the Ascians motivations and Modus Operandi were easy to discern from previously shared information. That was not what had you in the state you were in. Rather, it was the words said after the rather remarkable display of power from Emet-Selch; after he easily conjured up images to provide visuals to his story.

There were the residual feelings of indignation as he so casually dismissed the lives of thousands, if not more, that were killed; all collateral in his plans of rejoining. The fact that he so easily stated that he did not consider it murder as he did not consider any of you to be truly alive.

While none of you were Ascians, it didn’t mean that your lives didn’t matter. Despite being sundered, despite being only a ‘fragment of our true selves,’ as he so eloquently called you, you still lived. You still had a beating heart and breath in your lungs. And therefore, your lives still mattered.

And he clearly knew your thoughts; and maybe you were _too_ easy to read considering his words directed solely to you.

_“Oh, don’t look at me like that. You for whom I have only the highest expectations.”_

_“A vaunted hero of the Source, seven times rejoined.”_

_“Long have I awaited one who might brave a path of lesser tragedy. A resilient soul able to endure the necessary pain. I dare to hope that my wait is over.”_

And it only confused you more. It seemed like there was more that he wanted to say, and yet instead he easily dismissed you to go off and slay the last warden. It didn’t help that Lyna came in to deliver concerning news from Kholusia before you could question Emet-Selch any further.

Not that he would even provide you any answers.

Then, your mind turned over to the events in Kholusia. You’re revulsion at the truth behind meol. The revelation from Ryne that meol was created from Sin Eaters that were once Eulmore citizens. That, because of the nature of Sin Eaters siring new members from some of their victims, a Eulmore resident would gradually transform after consuming enough meol.

That these meol scraps were also distributed to the gatetown residents surrounding Eulmore, making them susceptible to Vauthry's influence as he used them and the unchanged Eulmorean residents as his first wave of defense against you and the Scions.

That Vauthry was a _Lightwarden_; and that he now resides above Mt. Gulg – a looming threat over all in Kholusia. It was yet another obstacle placed in your path that you and your fellow Scions would have to overcome. Well, at least you no longer had to worry about Ran’jit; that man whom was purely corrupted to turn a blind eye to the happenings within Eulmore, even if it was motivated by the right reasons…

You felt the beginnings of a headache forming, your fingers immediately went to your head to massage your temples; hoping that it would pass soon.

You were thankful that, although the Eulmorans were shocked by the truth behind their so-called-benevolent leader, they were willing to lend you whatever aid that they could – even resorting to manual labor.

And thus, finally, did your thoughts land on your second interaction with Emet-Selch that day. It seemed that you both were interacting more frequently as of late. It should have bothered you, but strangely it didn’t.

_“Ahh, the vibrant energy that fills the air when like-minded souls gather. To think back on that time before time fair brings a tear to the eye.”_

_“What? You thought ancient beings like us incapable of crying?”_

_“Well, rest assured that if _your _heart can be broken, then so can mine!”_

_“Back when the world was whole, we had family, friends, loves…”_

He described the level of peace and contentment among them; and you would be lying if you said that you did not want that for the realm. A world of peace; where differences paled in comparison to similarities. A place where man need not resolve conflict through bloodshed…such an ideal world it would be.

But then he described Amaurot. The city that you could only assumed he resided in before the sundering. The way he spoke of that place, with such wistfulness that called out to your own heart.

_“Not that you would remember any of this.”_

You questioned him on that last statement and yet his response was to dismiss it, as he so easily wont to do.

But you could not dismiss it. Every interaction with him had you questioning your life more and more. That there could be a bigger reason behind why you were Hydaelyn’s chosen. That said reason extends beyond your life now. That your soul could have experienced various lives and, more importantly, one such life could have been from back then.

That you could have existed before the Sundering…

It was too much information to process, the implications that you could be one of those that existed in the so-called-perfect world that Emet-Selch described.

But alas, these thoughts were not your priority. You still had a task to complete, for the First, for the Source, for your friends, for Ardbert…

_“Time wears you down, aye…but solitude_ eats _away at you. It was _this _close to finishing me off. But as bad as it got, and as empty as I felt…I can’t even begin to imagine what it must be like for Emet-Selch.”_

You couldn’t either. While you began as a solitary adventurer, looking for the thrill of exploring new lands and uncovering new secrets, to slay monsters and be of service to others, it did not last long. Your adventures eventually led you to the Scions, and from there you’ve come to know of many; from those in power, to the simplest man on the street.

Yet still, despite being surrounded by countless people, there yet lingered emptiness within you. It used to be easy to neglect; to push aside in favor of completing your tasks. But recently…you’ve found it to be harder to ignore.

You turned over in your cot and unsurprisingly came to view a visitor in your room; familiar eyes of gold watching you from his seated position on the chair at the corner. He regarded you with a neutral expression and the silence stretch between the two of you.

You were the first to speak, “I thought you wouldn’t visit again until after I’ve slayed Vauthry?”

His eyes met yours, as if just realizing that you’ve noticed his presence, “I found myself needing to sate my curiosity on a matter.”

“Oh? And have you found it?”

“Perhaps,” he replied, standing from the chair and making way to leave.

“Wait,” you called out to him.

He stilled, as if unsure of what to do with himself – there was a perfect silence and you realized that he was actually _waiting_ for your request.

“Tell me more…about it? About Amaurot?”

“There is not much more I can say, especially as you do not remember any of it. Words pale in comparison to actually seeing it.”

“Then…show me. You can do that, can’t you? You’ve used your magic before to conjure other images.”

He considered your words briefly before replying, “Mayhap someday I will be able to show you. That day is not today.”

You huffed; irritated that he would not indulge your curiosity.

If anything, your response caused some sort of amusement in him, a slight quirk visible on his lips, “Now, now, such a reaction is unbecoming of a hero, is it not?”

“I’m no hero,” You replied, moving to sit up on the bed before shuffling yourself back to lean against the headboard.

“Then what are you?” was the question you heard.

You stared down intensely at your legs, covered by your sleeping clothes, determined to not display your torrent of emotions, “I don’t know,” you confessed quietly,

You expected him to continue to mock you; such a moment of weakness and in front of him no less. And yet, you had no one else that you could confide in. So much expectation thrust onto you without asking. You were hailed as a savior, a hero.

But yet that title weighed heavily upon your soul. You felt unworthy of it.

Your gaze shot up when you felt the bed creak and groan under added weight. Your eyes met his while he watched you quietly. It was the same intense look as before, as that time outside the Ocular. And that thought led you to remember the kiss.

That gods-damned kiss.

Your lips tingled at the memory.

“What do you want to be?” he asked, his tone a strange combination of curiosity and comfort.

Something in the back of your mind tried to remind you that you shouldn’t confide in him. That he was still the enemy- an Ascian whose goal is to sow the seeds of chaos in the realm. Who has been an everlasting thorn on your side since you stepped onto the First.

But yet…

“I don’t know. But I know what I must be.”

“The Warrior of Light,” Emet-Selch answered for you, a bitterness in his tone that you were not ready to analyze at this moment.

A resigned smile appeared on your lips, “It’s what I must be. I must stay the course, for the others…” _For those you have lost, for those you can yet save._

A smooth touch on your cheek startled you from your trance. His eyes bore into yours, an unreadable expression on his face. “Same as ever,” he mused, his gloved hand gliding down your cheek, brushing against your neck before coming back up to gently caress your jaw. His touch raised goosebumps on your skin and left a fire in its wake; your face feeling flushed by such an intimate gesture. “Always disregarding your own wellbeing for others. Such an infuriatingly endearing trait,” he whispered, his face inching closer and closer to yours. Your heart thudded wildly against your chest and you let out a shaky breath despite your best efforts to appear calm.

“What…w-what do you mean?” You asked, shivering. His face was as close as it was back then, mere ilms from your own. You took that time to fully study him, your eyes roving over his face before landing on his lips. And again, your lips tingled as you remembered the press of them against your own.

“Still not asking the right questions,” he murmured, his lips now against your ear while his hand began its descent down. His traced the outline of your collarbone, moving down to your chest and brushing his fingers against your nipples. Your breath hitched as his fingers made tantalizing circles around them, his touch burning you even through your small clothes. You nipple pebbled under his attentions and he quickly moved over to repeat the same to the other nipple with the same result.

You breaths came in rapidly, seemingly unable to bring enough air into your lungs. You felt bliss, not unlike the type of bliss whenever you would feel with you were able to make someone else’s life a little easier, or whenever you were able to save another. It had been such a long and tiring day, so much had transpired in just a few short hours that you simply wanted to _forget _and remind yourself that you’re alive.

And Emet-Selch was helping you do just that.

You distantly noted that he too seemed a bit affected, his breaths also a little faster while his hand continued downwards, his fingers leaving lines of fire in its wake as his lightly stroked your stomach– your muscles quivering under his touch– before continuing downwards. You gasped when his hand slipped under your small clothes, finally reaching to your arousal and you bit back a curse when he firmly stroked you.

You opened your eyes, mentally questioning when you even closed them, and met his own again; darkened with lust. He was watching you intently, seeing your reaction as his hand alternated between soft, light touches, and firmer ones. You finally let out a moan when he made a particularly rough press against you. His eyes sparkled in recognition that he found the right rhythm and then began to touch and stroke you in earnest.

A coil began to form within you, your whole body heated more than what could be attributed to the heat of Amity. You subconsciously began to shift your hips, seeking more friction.

Seeking release.

“Em-Emet-Selch,” you moaned aloud, possibly a little too loud if you had even cared to pay attention at that moment. You were close, at the precipice of a very steep fall and you felt yourself ready to simply let go. Your eyes closed against your own will, savoring the sweet friction that he was creating.

Just a little more…

Suddenly the friction was gone, your eyes opened and immediately noted the arrogant smirk back on his face. “What...”

He seized that opportunity, and quickly pressed his lips to yours again. This time though, he had more access, your mouth still open from the unfinished question. His tongue easily slipped past your lips into your mouth.

It was lightning, pure electric coursing through your body. The whole room felt charged, not unlike the thunderstorms that were so prevalent in Gyr Abania. Everything around you seemed to stop, including your own thoughts while you instinctively begin to kiss back, your own tongue meeting his. Your hands worked of its own accord, and tentatively wrapped themselves around his neck, as if trying to pull him closer, trying to chase the rush of adrenaline and pure lust. It was pure sin as he explored your mouth and you explored his, the sensations completely new although at the same time strangely familiar to you.

Eventually, your need for air overrode your need to continue. You pulled away, panting harshly, your chest rising and falling rapidly while your brain began to restart its own thoughts. Your arms fell to their sides while you watched him watch you, that same insufferable smirk _still_ in place.

“I will take my leave,” he simply stated, quickly rising from his seated position on the cot and adjusting his robes before he turned his gaze toward you, completely detached. “Continue on your path and slay the Light warden. When you are ready, I will visit you again.”

He disappeared in a portal of dark aether before you could even tell him to stop. Your breaths were still short and shallow, your clothes in complete disarray and a strange empty ache between your legs from a release so cruelly denied to you.

For not the first time, you cursed his name in the quiet emptiness of your room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WE GOING THAT ROUTE, BOYS AND GIRLS.
> 
> Honestly, the Hades/Persephone route has been done a few times by others but goddamn if it doesn’t make this ship more solid.
> 
> AND I KNOW, I’M SORRY FOR BEING SO MEAN TO OUR WoL!! I promise it will get better soon!!


	6. Recall

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so begins this complicated web I weave.  
Pray for my sanity during this time, my emotions will be a roller-coaster.

_Your surroundings were a haze, details that should be clear were distorted, blurred. The only thing you could discern is the low glow of what could have been several lights at the edges of your vision. _

_Yet somehow you were not afraid as you cradled a small lump of clay in your hands. You closed your eyes, first imagining a hooded figure, their aura around their form burning brightly. You then concentrated on the color and the image began to shift and take on a new form; a creature with wings the color of stained glass and a small body with which the wings can easily support its weight. As you imagined it, you felt a stirring on your hands, the familiar flow of magic blooming from within your chest and working its way down your arms, enveloping the small lump. It began to take form, the same one you were imagining in your mind._

_“So this is where you’ve been hiding,” a familiar voice sounded from behind you. A smile tugged at your lips despite yourself, and your eyes opened just in time to see said owner of that voice walk around to face you. _

_“Look!” you joyously remarked, a tiny creature now sitting on your hands where the clay once was._

_They hummed, their face and details completely hidden from you underneath the black cowl and red mask they always wore. You however, could tell that they had an amused smile on their face. “I’m sure that Lahabrea would not be so happy to know that you’ve escaped from your duties in order to create such a unique creature.”_

_You scoffed, “Surely what he doesn’t know won’t hurt him,” you remarked, returning your attention to the tiny fragile creature in your arms. Its wings moving up and down slowly._

_“What is it?” They asked, moving closer to take a better look._

_“I don’t know yet,” you replied, watching it with rapt attention. Its body was divided in three sections, and one of the segments had several legs which it was using to keep itself upright in your hands. Two antennas adorned its head and from what you could feel it had several tiny hairs on its body. But what was most eye-catching were the wings. Wings covered in scales which would catch some of the lights from around you, highlighting the most vibrant red and gold colors that you’ve seen; separated into different segments by lines of black. “But I just had a thought and then it somehow started to shift and it turned into this.”_

_“Hmm.” They simply replied, “And what thought would that be?”_

_You felt a blush beginning to bloom on your cheeks, “I don’t remember.”_

_They hummed again in amusement; making it clear to you that they were aware you were lying. “Well, t’would be best that we return to Akadaemia Anyder anon, before Lahabrea himself comes searching. Unless you wish to receive a through scolding and lecture from him?” he asked, and you could swear that, if you were able to see him, he would have an eyebrow quirked and an insufferable smirk on his face._

_“No!” you quickly answered, a little louder than you would have liked. You quickly cleared you throat in your embarrassment, “No…let us go.”_

_Their laughter reached your ears and you shot an irritated glance towards them, although it had no real anger behind it. “You are so easily flustered, tis most amusing.”_

_“And you are most irritating, tis most vexing” you grumbled. _

_“And yet, you enjoy it,” they teased._

_The blush that still persisted on your cheeks began to darken in color, “Were we not going back to Akadaemia Anyder? Let us be off,” you quickly stated, turning away from them in favor of avoiding his persistent gaze._

_“That would be the wrong direction,” they replied._

_You froze in realizing that, yes, you definitely were heading in the completely opposite direction. The embarrassment you felt before was returning with full force. You slowly turned back towards them and saw them standing there, their arms crossed over their chest; clear mirth radiating off their form. “Full glad am I that you derive so much pleasure from my discomposure,” You muttered sarcastically. _

_Two hands came up and supported your own which startled you, the movement provoking the creature that had been in your hands this whole time to finally take flight, its wings flapping as it hovered near you before ascending further up to the sky. Your eyes followed its movement briefly before settling back down to their face, still hidden under the dark cowl. “It flew away,” you whispered._

_“That it did, but I am sure that it will return to you. After all, your aura radiates brightly that even in the darkest corner you would be a beacon of light.”_

_“So does yours.”_

_They chose not to remark on your statement and instead moved to encircle your wrist with their hand, “Let us return to Akadaemia Anyder lest Lahabrea send out to search for you. Besides…” they paused, a mischievous glint appearing in their eyes as they inclined their head towards you, “I still wish to derive some amusement from your discomposure.” they laughed, tugging at your arm as he began the walk back to the building. _

_Your flush felt even more heated, as you stumbled briefly before regaining your balance and allowing yourself to be led by them. In your flustered state, you were only able to stutter his name as you both made your way back to the Akadaemia._

_“H-Hades!”_

* * *

You awoke with a start, quickly sitting up in your bed. Your chest rose and fell rapidly as you greedily gulped in air like a person who was on the brink of collapsing.

You looked down at your hands, where your wrist still somehow felt the phantom touch from the dream.

What it a dream? There were not many details that you could recall, the scene blurred as it were. However, there were still sounds and such that you could somewhat discern from the dream. You knew that it could not be your own memories and you briefly wondered if maybe it was of a past of maybe your previous life. After all, it seemed that a Warrior of Light existed in various parts of history, if the vast number of tomes that you’ve looked at could be believed.

And yet, as you scanned through your memories of said tomes as well as the ruins that you’ve personally explored during your travels, you could not match the scene of your dream to any of them. This then led you to the only remaining option, which was that maybe this memory extended far beyond what history had recorded.

Possibly even before the formation of the source.

If that were the case, then this would be no dream. This would have to be a past memory that the echo seemed fit to bestow you with. But why now? Up until last night, you’ve never experienced any visions of your own past, or your past lives. The echo would usually show you visions pertaining to other people, if it even deigned to show it to you at all. Still, you found no other plausible explanation.

And even that gave you pause, as you replayed the details that you could recall of the dream. If it were true that the echo decided to show you a vision of your life before the sundering, there were details within the dream that defied reality. Mainly, the magicks you saw yourself use on the clay. You were definitely no stranger to the uses of magic and its limitations.

Being able to create life from a mere clump of clay would definitely fall under its limitations.

And then your mind went straight to the main concern, the end of the vision. Not only was what was shown to you a lot do digest, but also _who_.

Hades.

That name was wholly unfamiliar to you. But the mere thought of it had your heart flutter. It had to be residual feelings from that dream, you reasoned with yourself. Though a small part of you knew that it could not wholly be attributed to that. But looking past and summarily stomping down on that particular thought brought another one to your mind; the feelings that the dream you had towards them.

Clearly, you held feelings for this Hades.

And you were definitely sure that you weren’t ready to examine that bit of information.

A knock on your door brought you out of your thoughts. “Come in,” you absently said, pulling the covers off of yourself and moving to sit on the edge of the bed.

The familiar image of Alisaie appeared at the doorway, her arms crossed. “Sorry to disturb you.”

You waved your hand dismissively, “I was already awake.”

“Well, I was wondering if you wished to accompany me in scouting the area near Mount Gulg. I would like to have an idea of the defensives that his lordship has, if any.”

You nodded, moving to stand from your cot, feeling a few satisfying pops as you did so. “Give me a moment to prepare, I shall join you anon.”

Alisaie nodded, moving to close the door before pausing, “Are you sure you are well? You seem to be…distant.”

If only she knew just how distant you were. Still, you nodded, “Well enough, it was a rough night. I’ll see you outside,” you ended, hoping that she would not press the issue further.

Thankfully, she decided to leave things be, and closed the door to your room, leaving you to prepare for the day ahead.

* * *

Clearly, Vauthry was not one to take chances with you or the Scions you mused while partially listening to your friend’s debate on how to best reach his new fortress. The machina that the Exarch used earlier discarded any possibility of reaching it by air, and trying to reach it by land was obviously not an option; being that his fortress floated several hundred malms above the already imposing mountain.

“Oh, it’s so _frustrating_! That wretched mountain should jolly well come back down to earth!” Came an all too familiar high pitched noise that could only belong to Dulia-Chai.

Her husband was quick to placate her and attempted to instead pull her way from the situation, citing that it was time that they return home.

A flick of something in your peripheral vision caused your gaze to move over and meet silver hair and ears. Y’shtola had her hand to her chin in thought but her demeanor suddenly changed. Her ears perked up and her expression was one that you knew too well. She had an idea.

“The lady may well have the right of it,” Y’shtola mused.

The others paused in their own thoughts and turned towards her in curiosity. “Mt. Gulg will not soon come down to earth,” she began, “nor can we compel it to do so. But if the mountain will not come to the land, mayhap the land may be made to come to the mountain…In the form of a Talos. A Talos large enough to reach out and take the volcano in its grasp.”

“To build such a golem would be an onerous undertaking indeed…” Urianger voiced, “yet the principle seemeth sound in itself.”

“Balderdash!” Chai-Nuzz exclaimed from a short distance away, “No one has ever made one even half that size! Leaving aside the small matter of logistics – which, by the way, would be _no small matter_ – the design would need to be _unimaginably_ complex!” He paused then, and mumbled more to himself in thought, unaware that everyone could clearly hear him, “Though, I suppose…Hmm…if its only function is to cling to the ruddy mountain, perhaps it needn’t be… A solid base, firmly rooted to the ground – sacrifice mobility to simplify the construction, reducing materials required…” he stopped mumbling and seemed to realize that he had unwittingly attracted an audience and took a step back in surprise, before quickly stretching his arms out and waving them in denial, “Wait, wait, wait! What am I thinking!? We would still need a veritable _army _of people to do the work! Left the crew that helped down below, it would take decades, if not a nice round century!”

If anything, his musings seemed to light a flame of hope from the group. “So we need more hands. And what sort of things would these hands be required to do?” Alisaie asked.

Chai-Nuzz startled in response, “Oh? Er…Well, err…Well, let’s see…First, we’d need people to procure the stone for the chassis. The rock found near the mountain would suit our purposes well enough. It’d be a simple task to quarry the stuff, but given the stupendous quantity required, we’d need all the help we can get.”

Those words, if anything, turned that flame of hope into a roaring fire. The Scions looked at each other and nodded, each of them on the same page even though no words were exchanged. Quickly, they each spoke of friends and allies upon which they could call upon for aid in the endeavor. As each one named the different regions that they could visit, it only served to completely shock Chai-Nuzz.

Ryne turned towards the shocked Mystel, “Is there anything else you need?”

“Well…yes, actually…Magic. Lots of the stuff. As much as possible. To awaken a Talos of this size would require an entire congregation of mages.”

And the fire only seemed to increase in intensity as the possibility of the insane idea actually working became more and more plausible.

While the Scions continued to plan their course of action, Chai-Nuzz interrupted them. “I’m sorry – you mean to tell me that you can call on not only the people of Eulmore and the Crystarium, but the Night’s Blessed, and the Mord, and even those miners!?” he exclaimed in disbelief. “But that’s just about everyone in bally Norvandt! Who _are_ you people!? And how did you come to have so many _friends_!?”

You smiled in response, a mischievous undertone to your expression as you answered, “The saviors of the world.”

* * *

It was amusing to say the least, watching as Master Chai fell to his knees in complete disbelief. The others opted for efficiency rather than staying to continue poking fun for his almost comical reaction. Each one departed for their respective regions to call upon aid from the people there; leaving you a rare moment to rest.

You and the Exarch remained behind, offering assistance to Chai-Nuzz although you were both well aware that you were ill-equipped to assist in the design of a Talos. Thankfully, Chai-Nuzz quickly waved you off, stating that he would be fine on his own and that he would call should he need assistance. 

The Exarch had step away a few moments ago, expressing that he was a bit weary from the travel to Kholusia and wished to rest for a moment. This then left you to your own devices, which was never a good thing. You thrived in action, in the continuing flow of moving from one place to the next; taking on even the most mundane tasks. Even if they were infuriating fetching tasks, it kept you busy. Idleness, however, forced your mind to wander, and oftentimes it would lead down paths you’d rather not remain in. Your mind at times was your worst ally, whispering doubts, or reminding you of things that you’d rather purge from your being entirely; memories that pulled at your heart, friends that you could no longer see.

Numerous paths towards an uncertain future of which that you could not predict the outcome.

You stood at the edge of a cliff, overlooking much of the area below. A steep fall, you mused to yourself, but the height afforded you the sight of all the small villages below; the scarred remains of what once was a great nation. And then there was the proper city of Eulmore, a stark contrast to the poor impoverished shantytowns below. A glaring and taunting infrastructure which served to remind the poor and destitute of the luxuries that they could never dream to have.

Yet still, despite the grim reality of the present, you hoped that recent events would steer the citizens towards a brighter future. One where all of Kholusia’s people could be afforded their basic necessities. Where no child would have to experience the hardships of starvation and thirst; or want for a sturdy shelter that isn’t on the brink of collapsing should a gust of wind hit upon it at the right angle. And for someone that is able to guide its people to that direction, an architect that can design and build wondrous towns and cities; and build upon the scarred and desolate lands.

At that thought, your head pulsed in a familiar pain. You clutched at your temples, feeling the call of the echo beckoning you; the pull of its power as you fall into another one of its visions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Architect, get it? *nudgenudge*
> 
> I'm probably terrible at subtlety XD
> 
> Also, this slow burn will quickly grow into more smut-fest within the next 1-2 chapters.
> 
> So prepare yourselves, because my trashy mind will not be stopped.


	7. Release

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It sucks when you've never had that great relationship and smutty experiences to fall back on so you're now typing up a chapter and blushing like a sinner in church.
> 
> Anyways, enjoy!

_You stared down at the reports on the desk, almost groaning in boredom but able to reign it in so that the others outside of your office would not hear you. You loved the majority of your work, but certain tedious tasks such as this made the day stretch on longer than you would like. You hated idleness and preferred to be out and about; but Lahabrea insisted that you were to remain there and finish looking at the reports, since it technically was part of your job responsibilities._

_Which served to remind you how much he annoyed you with his insistence of always following protocol._

_You tried your best to remain on task, but found it extremely difficult. _

_Thankfully, you were spared from your continued feigned interest in the papers scattered before you by a knock on your door. “Come in,” you called out._

_The door swung open and a robed figure appeared before you; there was no cowl concealing their whole face but there was a white mask present which hid their eyes. A smile appeared on your lips as you instantly recognized them, “I thought you would be out for a while yet addressing that report on the bird creation? What brings you here?”_

_“Visiting a dear friend, what else?” they replied, a worn yet equally warm smile on their face, “also, I was hoping you’d indulge a friend on a little chitchat regarding some rumors that have been circulating recently.”_

_“Rumors?” you questioned, completely oblivious to any recently happenings being whispered. You were never one to openly seek out or thrive in the learning and spreading of rumors. But you knew your friend and if they had wanted to speak about it, then it had to be something of great interest. “Please, sit” you said, gesturing to the chair across from the desk, “and pray tell, what is it that has your interest piqued.”_

_They nodded and sat down before they leaned towards you, being mindful not to move any of the papers and lowered their voice conspiratorially, “Word has reach me regarding our dear friend, Hades.”_

_That definitely caught your attention, although you tried to hide it behind a mask of indifference. “Oh? And what has our friend gotten himself into this time?”_

_It appeared that your attempt to seem nonplussed was unsuccessful, as your friend had a knowing smile on their face, “Well, I have heard that he has accepted the honor of joining the recently vacated position within the Convocation of Fourteen.”_

_You gasped in surprise, “Hades? But…I was not made aware that he was being considered…”_

_“I would think that the Convocation wanted to avoid potential…biases that could favor him.” _

_Confusion bloomed on your face, “Bias? But I don’t…”_

_Their smile only grew, but there was no teasing behind it. It felt more like a smile a parent would give to indulge their child, “Come now, surely you know very well what I mean.”_

_You shook your head in response._

_“I believe there exist only two beings in all of Amaurot who are completely oblivious to the feelings of another. One, sits before me…”_

_You face became heated, and you opened your mouth ready to…well, you weren’t sure what you could say; but you did not want them to continue speaking. Unfortunately they did not afford you the opportunity to interrupt them._

_“The other one, I believe, is currently at his usual spot, lounging upon the lawn at the nearby park._ _Shall I ascertain our friend’s whereabouts? It will take but a moment.”_

_“No!” you quickly replied, a bit louder than you intended. You cleared your throat, attempting to gain some semblance of calm before continuing, “No, thank you. I did not request for your help. I will…” you paused, unsure where your thoughts were headed. _

_“You will?”_

_You sighed, clearly they would not leave the matter alone until you gave them a satisfactory answer. “I will seek him out in due time.”_

_They snorted in amusement, “Sure, and when that happens I shall confess undying love for Lahabrea,” they deadpanned._

_Despite his tone, you could not help but giggle at the image their statement conjured in your mind, “I’m sure that confession would go a long way to softening his rather brusque demeanor.”_

_Their smile faded then, “I would suppose so. But I hope that you realize that my previous statement still stands.”_

_You paused and took a deep breath to help quell the rapid beating of your heart, “I know. I will…address it. After all,” you offered a small smile, “we have all the time in the world, do we not?”_

_Their smile in response was tight, the amusement that they exuberated no longer present, “Yes…all the time indeed.”_

_The distant sound of a bell reached you and you hurriedly stood up and gathered some of the papers in front of you, “Apologies, I must run! I forgot that there is a meeting that I must attend. You are welcome to stay and rest but I ask that you please close the door upon your departure.” You scooped the papers into your arms, walking out towards the door before pausing at the doorway, “Thank you, Hythlodaeus” you whispered before you continued walking._

_Hythlodaeus stayed a moment in your office, and had you stayed but a moment longer you would have heard him whisper, “I fear that there may not be as much time left as you believe, my dear friend.”_

* * *

You shook you head, trying to dispel the haze that would usually remain after receiving a vision. The Echo would rarely gift you a vision every few weeks as it was. Yet you’ve just received two separate visions within the same day.

It was very confusing and disorienting.

Had the revelations from Emet-Selch and Minfilia somehow trigger a change with the Echo? You couldn’t be sure. But if one thing was certain, these visions were deliberate- all focused on one theme,

Your life before the Sundering.

It was always a strange sensation, to be an audience to someone else’s memories and actions. But the fact that this other person was, essentially, you added a whole different dimension of strange feelings that you could not identify. You decided to sit, drawing up your legs as close as your clothes would let you, and rested your arms on top of your knees. There was an almost peaceful stillness around you, the calm before the upcoming storm; and you wanted to enjoy this brief moment of respite as much as you were able to.

You heard the sound of approaching footsteps and huffed; clearly resting on your own was not to be. It quickly became clear that the sounds did not belong with the Exarch, as it lacked the telltale thump of his staff and so you turned, your eyes briefly widening as they met pools of gold before turning away.

“I thought you wouldn’t visit until _after_ I’ve slayed Vauthry. Yet here you are.” You stated loud enough so that he could hear.

He chuckled from behind, “It must be your most charming personality that continues to lure me back then.”

You simply snorted in response, silence shortly taking up residence between the two of you.

“You are lost in thought,” you heard him comment, “worried over the upcoming battle?”

“Yes,” and no, your mind added in. Not that he needed to know what was really on your mind.

You heard his footsteps come closer but kept your eyes fixated to the view in front of you, determined to not look at him.

He, however, seemed to have other plans. His boots came into your field of view and your gaze inexplicably went up of its own accord. You expected to see cockiness or hubris but instead met curiosity in his eyes. “What?” you snapped, somewhat irritated and not willing to deal with him in this moment.

“Temper, temper,” Emet-Selch tsked, “is it really that implausible that I would wish to meet with you?”

“It is.”

“Well, then it appears I shall have to endeavor to change your perception of me.”

You let out another snort in response, making it very clear your thoughts of his last statement.

The atmosphere around you seemed to shift them, and your body tensed in response. You didn’t feel as if you were in danger, per se, but it was closer to anticipation.

But for what?

Your eyes continue to remain glued to his own, and followed as his gaze lowered until you realized that his whole body was coming down to a crouch in front of you. Your heart began to beat wildly inside your chest, the familiar vision of you and him close together bringing out _other_ instances of your togetherness to your mind. You instinctively began to shuffle yourself back but his hand was quicker and grasped your wrist, keeping you still and shocked.

“Are you afraid, warrior?” he asked, an amused smirk and something more in his expression.

“N-no…”

“Then why do you appear as a wharf rat that has stumbled into a Ceourl’s cave?”

“Can you blame me?” you retorted back, feeling no need to elaborate further as he surely knew what you meant.

He simply chuckled in response and leaned closer to you, “I see. My deepest apologies, hero, for leaving you in such a…_impassioned_ state.”

“That’s not what I mea–“ you began to reply before the words ended in a sharp inhale, his hand having quickly slipped between your legs and pressed against your arousal.

You tried to press your legs together, to stop the intrusion, but it only served to heighten the sensations as Emet-Selch glided his hand up and down which made you realize with alarming clarity that your clothes had just somehow _disappeared_.

“What d-did you do with my-_ah_ cl-clothes?” you whispered harshly, unable to really express the anger and indignation you felt at his actions.

A wicked gleam appeared in his eyes and he smirked, his hand continuing its movements against your arousal; albeit more restricted. “Nothing you didn’t want anyway.”

“I didn’t-_ah_\- want this…” you barely huffed out between gasps and sharp inhales.

“Ah, lying does not suit you, warrior,” he remarked, “you are so quick to voice your objections and yet your body sings a different tune,” as if to prove his point he briefly pulled his fingers away and you saw the glistening wetness of your arousal upon them.

You felt the beginnings of a blush form on your cheeks in both embarrassment and lust. This shouldn’t be happening and yet, as his hand returned to giving you attentions, stoking the fire of need and pleasure within you, you found it hard to continue to voice your objections.

He chuckled, the sound almost sinful to your ears while you noted that his eyes were darkened by desire. “Such a pretty blush warrior, one would think that you’re enjoying this,” his eyes held a mischievous gleam as he leaned closer to you, forcing you to keep your focus on him, “How would your mother, Hydaelyn, react I wonder? Knowing that her champion of light is consorting with a paragon of darkness?”

You shook your head vehemently in denial, because you didn’t, _absolutely didn’t_, want this. Yet your accursed body continued to respond to him and your legs opened slightly; which allowed him room to quicken the movement of his deft fingers. A moan slipped from your lips, unbidden, and the hunger in his eyes seemed to intensify.

You felt yourself come closer to that precipice again, coaxed forward by the insistent rubbing and stroking of his hand against you. His words continued to echo in your mind, a taunting reminder that served to both stimulate and shame you at the same time.

You closed your eyes subconsciously, chasing the release that had been cruelly denied to you before. Your hips shifted subtly, seeking the spot that would spark the flame that would lead to you finally reach your peak. A sharp tug at your scalp forced your eyes open to meet his own. His eyes were intense and you felt confusion for a mere moment until realization dawned on you.

He wanted to see you come undone.

Defiance overtook you once more at the realization of your situation and your hands grasped at his arm that was between your legs, tugging with as much force as you could muster. You heard him tut in response before your hands were suddenly pulled away from his arm and your palms slammed against the ground beside you, held there by some invisible force.

“Now now, hero,” Emet-Selch began, his voice husky yet still held the undertone of danger beneath it, “you choose now to make a pretense of disliking this?” he emphasized the this with a particularly pleasurable flick against you.

“Release me,” you hissed, the threat falling short by your flushed and panting appearance.

“I think not,” he replied flippantly, “after all, I do seem to remember leaving you wanting during our last encounter. T’would only be fair to you to finish what had been started.”

Your body shook as he continued his ministrations. You fought against the restraints on your hands and tried move your body away from his but then felt the same magical restraints that were on your hands now hold your whole body still and at his mercy. Anger burned in your eyes which only seemed to amuse him even more.

Emet-Selch smirked, clearly reveling in his dominance over you. His fingers sped up, determined to push you to your release while his eyes continued to bore into yours, “Let go, warrior,” he stated in a low tone, a command, “come undone so I may see it with my eyes and feel it with my hands.”

His words were the final push you needed and a hoarse cry escaped you. Tremendous pleasure overrode your better judgement and you moved your hips as much as you were able too under his restraints; riding out the waves of bliss. You heard him hiss something in a language you couldn’t recognize, but you were too lost in your own release to question it.

His fingers continued, your body shuddered under his attentions; the over-stimulation so great that you let out a small moan in protest. Soon, the effects of your orgasm began to ebb and his fingers slowed down, eventually stopping and pulling away from you. You watched, transfixed as he brought his fingers up to his face, the evidence of your release coating his fingers, and he slowly took each digit into his mouth, sucking his fingers dry.

A flood of embarrassment as well as renewed desire painted your cheeks and all the while he continued to hold your gaze, his eyes almost gleaming in victory.

When he finished, he regarded you with a calculating gaze, the same one as he had done before; searching for something that he had yet to voice to you.

It appeared that whatever he sought was still not there, and a brief flash of disappointed ran through his eyes before he quickly masked it with a smug expression. “Well now, I believe that it’s time to take my leave, there are people seeking you out,” he commented before he quickly rose to his feet and turned around only to disappear in his portal.

You opened and closed your mouth several times, the perfect imitation of a fish as you looked at the spot where he disappeared. A mixture of arousal, anger, and confusion warred within you and you distantly realized that you _still_ had not found anything about him, or about his strange behavior towards you.

The sounds of voices from a distant pulled your attention away and at first you panicked, remembering that you had been bare until you actually glanced down and realized that your armor was back, clearly his doing.

The villager had asked if you were okay, as he noted your flushed appearance and you quickly waved it off as your reaction to the extreme heat of Kholusia. They had informed you that the Exarch had gone missing and you set about to find him. You went through the motions of the day, ignoring the tackiness that persisted on your thighs, the evidence of your moment of weakness and debauchery.

You mentally cursed Emer-Slech’s name.

It was quickly starting to become a habit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I'll be honest. I haven't written a piece of smut since my crazy teenage years and those were some cringe-worthy reads. So I'm doing research...on how to write smut.
> 
> Lord help us all D:
> 
> Also, another 1-2 chapters for this to really get heated. Prepare your bodies!


	8. Restraint

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So here we venture into the land of dubious consent. 
> 
> So you have been warned, if this is potentially triggering for you then please avert thine eyes.

You stared blankly at the empty darkness around you, unable to see and strangely bereft of feeling while you tried to remember how you ended up here. You had remembered the giant Talos being activated, you remembered scaling its arm to Mt. Gulg, you remembered facing down countless sin eaters, and you remembered facing Vauthry and slaying him.

You remembered searing pain at absorbing the Light aether Vauthry left behind at his demise.

But the rest remained a cloudy haze.

Still, you could not remain here…wherever here even was. You had to find a way to return to your comrades and hopefully fill in the missing gaps in your mind.

“Hello?” you called out tenuously, the sound muffled by the almost suffocating darkness around you.

You decided that it would be best to try and start navigating through this darkness in the hopes of having an exit revealed to you as you wander. You started taking the first steps until you felt a touch against the back of your neck and you froze, your heart jumping in your chest.

Quickly, you whirled around, and found nothing but darkness and started to believe that maybe it was all in your mind, until you felt another touch, a caress, against your arm. Goosebumps began to form at the wake of the phantom touch against your skin while your eyes darted around, trying to discern the source. “Show yourself!” you yelled out, the sound yet again muffled in the darkness.

“Now now, it was just a bit of fun, _hero._” a familiar voice whispered into your ear from behind and you turned around, nearly giving yourself whiplash, and met the source of said voice; a mischievous gleam in his eyes and a smirk on his lips.

All of the sudden, the gaps in your memory seemed to fill; as if the sight of him triggered its return. You remembered the Exarch– no, _G’raha Tia_ appearing before you, with a near ridiculous plan of absconding with all the Light aether that you had accumulated which was rapidly revealed to be untrue; instead unveiling an even more ridiculous and heart wrenching plan of sacrifice. You remembered reaching out to him, desperate to stop your old friend from taking the aether from you and casting himself into the rift.

Then you remembered the sound of a gunshot.

And G’raha Tia falling to the ground; revealing the person responsible.

Emet-Selch.

And you remembered it all. How he led you astray, how he expressed his disappoint in you, how he so casually dangled G’raha Tia’s life in front of you and your friends, how he expressed his plan to have you become a Lightwarden and become the one that would destroy the First.

You feelings returned to you with a vengeance.

The immense feeling of anger and betrayal at his words near unbearable.

A snarl escaped your lips and you drew your weapon forth, your sight trained on his figure, “Betrayer,” you hissed.

Emet-Selch regarded you with an impassive expression and merely tutted in response. “There’s no need for all that now,” he stated calmly before raising his arm up and snapping his fingers.

Within a blink of an eye, you found yourself bereft of your weapon, _and your clothes_, and pinned.

You looked up and met his gaze, which was considerably closer, and without any forewarning his hand slipped between your legs.

“This cannot happen again,” you hissed, your eyes blazing in open defiance. The source of your ire regarded you with a nonchalant expression which angered you all the more, causing you to renew the struggle against the magical bindings around your wrists. You knew it was useless, you were powerless and at his mercy, but it didn’t stop you from at least trying.

Golden eyes stared at you, his face was blank but you could feel him gauging you, as if trying to find something. You sucked in a breath as you felt fingers stroke your arousal and narrowed your eyes at him as a smirk began to appear on his face.

“Ah, the vaunted Bringer of Light,” he hissed in a mocking tone, “such false bravado. You need not be so defensive. We both know that while you say no, your mind and body speaks yes,” you gasped as he emphasized that last word with a particular hard flick against your arousal.

You felt your body squirm, heat pooling within you against your better judgement as expert fingers slowly took you closer to the edge, closer to the fall of release. He knew all the right spots, and you could scoff about his expertise if you were able to manage any coherent thoughts at this point.

Of course he would be experienced; he’s had centuries to perfect his techniques.

Your barely held together train of thought was abruptly broken as you felt his lips latch onto your nipple; giving a particularly hard suck as the same time his fingers reached deep within you, curling at the right spot. Your breath became erratic and labored, your fingers flexing, itching to grab onto something but unable to do so due to the restraints. You began to shake, the anticipation growing. By the twelve, you were so close, almost there…

And suddenly there was nothing; cold air now the only thing you felt. You opened your eyes –unsure of when you even closed them- and stared incredulously at the being before you; a mixture of need and anger in your eyes.

He only smirked in response, his eyes demanding your attention as he slowly brought his fingers to his lips; sucking on each digit one by one. “Now, now, hero,” he began, a mocking tone to his words, “You need not be so hasty. I have all the time in the world, and I shall enjoy slowly learning about you.”

You shook your head vehemently, dispelling the haze of arousal that had clouded your mind. You had to focus, concentrate on the anger, and train it to him. “Where am I?!” you demanded.

“Such a cruel tone, and here I thought of us as comrades, friends even,” he drolled, “but very well. You are…safe. In a place of mine own making,” he answered cryptically.

“Specify place.”

“I cannot.”

“Why?!”

“Because, dear warrior, you are still not asking the _right_ questions,” he sighed, shaking his head in amusement of your actions.

“Then what are the right questions?!” you demanded, desperate for him to stop playing his games and to finally be upfront and truthful to you.

“Why hero, I cannot simply _give_ you the answer to that. You’ll simply have to find it out yourself.”

Your eyes narrowed at his dismissive response while his smirk only grew wider. His golden eyes raked over your body, the color darkening with lust and your body responded, a shiver racking your form at his blatantly clear desire. Yet still, for all the lust that is clear in his eyes, he’s never gone beyond touching you.

You haven’t even seen _him_ bare.

“Well, until then,” he paused before his crashed his lips onto yours, his tongue forcibly pushing past your lips, forcing you to taste yourself while his hand quickly snaked back down to your arousal, resuming his teasing strokes. He pulled back then, seemingly satisfied with the look on your face, “until then, I shall entertain myself.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We getting into the dirty here, folks.
> 
> Hope ya'll ready for this messy ride.


	9. Reaching

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, here the storyline starts to converge more and we see the connection between our WoL and Hades.
> 
> No smut here, but it is rapidly incoming.
> 
> Also I only was able to briefly re-read it in my rush to get the chapter out. So please forgive any errors on my end.

_“Congratulations!”_

_Said target of your congratulations turned around to face you, his scowl instantly vanished and a curious look overcoming his features instead. You fidgeted under his stare, which was hidden beneath his red mask and shadowed by his cowl. Your gaze went downwards, wondering if you had overstepped your bounds. Quickly, you made to bow before you felt a hand encircle your wrist, halting your hasty attempt to apologize. Your gaze slowly went back up to meet golden eyes full of mirth, a smirk on said persons lips. “Ah, already set to apologize were you? No need; although tis most amusing to see, considering your position.”_

_You frowned at his teasing remarks, a blush forming on your cheeks in your embarrassment, “You need not mock me.”_

_“I do not recall saying I was. I simply said it was amusing…” he paused, as if considering his next words, “endearing, even.” _

_The blush on your cheeks deepened, a fierce heat overtaking you, “The ever stoic Hades finding something endearing? Should Lahabrea and the others be concerned?”_

_“Ah, so the little lamb does have a bite to it.”_

_“I am most certainly not a lamb,” you groused, “I only wished to congratulate you on your position within the convocation.” You turned to leave, ready to save whatever was left of your dignity but his hand remained on your wrist, practically keeping you shackled to him. “Let go, please.”_

_“Would you run?” he asked, and you could not find it within yourself to lie. Even if you could, he would know, “then I will not,” he ended, his grip a little more firm._

_“Is it your singular mission to irritate me on a near daily basis?” you huffed out, determined to hold on to the last shred of dignity you had. “Because I assure you that I will not give in so easily to your whims.”_

_“You won’t? Not a one?”_

_“No.”_

_“Such a shame,” he mused, his other hand coming up to settle on your other arm, lazily caressing it up and down in slow, teasing strokes. “Your blush is such an interesting shade. I had wondered how else I might provoke such a reaction.”_

_You shivered under his touch, his attentions lighting your skin on fire and a heat formed within you. It was different, this wasn’t a heat born of anger or of embarrassment. This was a heat you couldn’t name, you couldn’t identify. It was new._

_It was terrifying._

_“Wh-what are you doing, Hades?” you asked, breathless._

_The silence stretched between you and he leaned closer. Your heart stuttered at his action before picking up at a near frantic pace. You breaths became labored, and you swallowed uselessly against the lump forming at your throat. You prepared to repeat yourself until his murmured answer reached your ears, “I don’t know.” _

_You felt him observe your face, which unlike his was not hidden beneath cowl nor mask. The space around you felt constricted, stifling even. And you felt some sort of anticipation well within you though for what, you were not certain. _

_“Hades…” you whispered, unsure of your movements as they happened. You felt like an outside observer; your body leaning towards to his, your face absurdly close. His eyes continued to look at every part of your face, as if he were trying to confirm something, before they landed on your lips. You licked at your lips which suddenly felt dry, and his gaze honed in on the movement, transfixed. _

_Suddenly, the sound of your title reached your eyes and the spell between you both was broken. You gasped and pulled away, managing to loosen your arms from his hold and took a hasty two steps back. In your rush, you hadn’t realized or accounted for the fact that you were both on a raised dais and you lost your footing on the first step. A yelp escaped you and you closed your eyes bracing for the impact but it never came. Instead, you felt a sturdy presence around your arm and another around your waist._

_Slowly, you opened your eyes and met pools of gold staring at you with an intensity that could easily burn you. “Thank you,” you whispered lowly, entranced by his gaze. The world disappeared between the two of you, sounds muffled and sights blurred other than Hades who, in contrast, was alarmingly clear in detail. You weren’t sure how long the both of you remained in this bubble; simply staring at each other. The places where his hands were gripping you felt heated, scalding, and yet you couldn’t find it within you to pull away._

_You were never particularly good at seeing another’s aether, much less your own. Your talents lain elsewhere, but you could, at times, feel the swirl of power surrounding you; even rarer you could sometimes faintly see the color of different aethers. _

_And that’s what you felt now, the pulse of your aether rising, coiling around your form, as if being summoned by something. The power of it was near overwhelming, and you were confused and frightened by it; you had not called for it, there was no reason for it to emerge. You strained your eyes, trying to see it. It was blurred, but you could faintly make out the color of your aether as it stretches out, beyond your own body, and swirls outward in anticipation. A gasp escapes you when you realize that you aether is not the only one being summoned. _

_His aether, the color so bright and vivid in your eyes, is also curling out, its tendrils reaching out towards your own. Your gaze was transfixed, fascination clear in your expression as you saw the two colors intertwine with one another. “I don’t…” you began, unsure of anything that was happening now. You chanced a glance over at Hades, and noted his own expression of bewilderment at seeing the same thing, his eyes wide and mouth parted._

_“Hades?” you asked, cautiously. His gaze snapped down to your own, the atmosphere around you became charged and a strange sense of anticipation began to form from within you. _

_The moment was shattered the moment the sound of someone pointedly clearing their throat finally reached you. You managed to pull away from Hades, being mindful of the raised dais this time, and stood awkwardly beside him, looking at the rather sour face of Lahabrea looking between the two of you._

_“Oh, Lahabrea,” you began, unsure of what to even say. _

_“The ceremony will begin anon. It’s best that you take your place so that there are no mishaps.” He levels a loaded stare right at you as he said his next words, “I hope you know your place.”_

_You visibly shrank at his tone, you could recognize the implication, blaring as it was. Your hands trembled and you willed yourself to remain still, you wouldn’t be intimidated by him, “I’m well aware on where I stand, Lahabrea.”_

_“Good,” is his only response before he turned around and briskly walked away, leaving you two alone again._

_You shifted your weight from one leg to the other, fidgeting now that you were left alone with him again. “Well…” you began, wincing at how high-pitched your voice sounded._

_When there was no response, you glanced over to him, and noticed the tick developing on his set jaw and the hard look in his eyes. “Let’s go,” he bit out tersely, turning and walking away from you._

_You stared at his retreating figure, and stomped down on the empty feeling that produced in you as you trailed behind him._

* * *

The images disappeared in a blur, and darkness surrounded you once more. You blinked, unsure if you were still asleep or awake but realized with a jolt that you were very much awake, very much naked, and very much still held up by some invisible force. Your eyes scanned around, and honed in on the familiar visage of back and gold, sitting rather comfortably on a black armchair. Part of your mind wondered where that even came from, but you quickly reminded yourself of what he was, _an Ascian_, and that these logistics wouldn’t apply to a being such as him.

“Release me,” you hissed.

He regarded you with a smug expression, “Temper, warrior. I would think that you would be more receptive after the attentions that I’ve so diligently given you.”

“I didn’t ask for them!” you bit out, unable to keep the hostility out of your voice.

He stood up them, staling towards you in a way that a predator would stalk his prey. “Come now, hero; now you choose to put up a pretense of modesty?” he sneered, “After all this time, now that I’ve explored every inch of that frail, weak body?”

You didn’t know how this all started, how things turned out this way. You shudder as his hands ghost over your body. You didn’t want this; you shouldn’t want this.

But your heart yearns for it, yearns for him. And you’ve no idea why.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My heart, my feels. :(
> 
> Please leave comments! They are loved <3


	10. Ruthless

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So uhhh, the long awaited smut is being pushed back in the interest of plot....
> 
> I sowwy

“I hate you,” you said breathily, hating yourself even more for being unable to keep the effect from his attentions away from your voice.

Emet-Selch simply leveled a stare in response, wordlessly conveying his disbelief at your words.

You chose not to stare at him; not at his tall, lithe frame. Not at his strong, set jaw. Not at his gold, mesmerizing eyes.

Not at all.

You let out a small yelp at a feeling out a hand painfully gripping your jaw, forcing you to look back at him, his brow arched and false sweetness coated his words, “Are you sure about that, warrior?” his hand against your arousal sped up, his touch insistent.

It’s was probably the third time since you’ve awoken that he’s made you climaxed. You whined, your body protesting from the overstimulation. Yet still, no matter how much you protested, he continued his relentless assault against you.

“Isn’t this what you wanted,” he sneered, “Isn’t this what you always do, warrior? Bend over backwards for others satisfaction?”

Your eyes flashed in rage, “I’m no _whore_,” you spat out.

“Not in the physical sense, no,” he easily agreed, “but do you deny that your actions were not, in part selfish?”

“They aren’t!” you vehemently denied. How dare he? How _dare_ he?! How dare he presume that your actions were less than noble? That you somehow willingly placed yourself headlong into danger for something other than for the good of the realm?

“You’d do well to remember that I know when you lie,” he purred, emphasizing his statement with a rough pinch on your cheek, soothing it out with a swipe of his tongue. His rhythm against you never faltered, and your body trembled with the conflicting need of wanting him to stop and wanting that release once more.

“I-I’m not,” you stuttered, feeling your face flush in embarrassment as well as fear; the feeling creeping up from the base of your spine.

“Oh, but you are,” he remarked with a self-assuredness that had you tremble, “Weary wanderer, always seeking a home, a place to belong. No one understands, not truly.” He leans in and presses a harsh kiss to your lips, mouthing out the next words against them, “no one understands the burden you bear; the title hero heavy upon your shoulders.”

You shook your head, the sounds of his cruel laughter reaching you were a small echo compared to the words he uttered. Those words pounded in your head, each syllable driving a metaphorical knife deeper and deeper into your heart. The tears were threatening to spill, and you stubbornly blinked them back. But he continued, either oblivious or willfully ignoring your distress. Clearly, he wasn’t done with you. 

Emet-selch pulled away again, watching you with hooded eyes, “You’ve never changed. Always searching for a place to belong, for acceptance, without seeing that lay in front of you.” His hand sped up against you, merciless in its assault against your arousal. You whined as you reached your climax for a fourth time, the sound of your voice cracked and small. “Please,” you cried out, your body shaking from the overstimulation.

He regarded you for a moment longer before he thankfully pulled his hand away, allowing you to slump against the magical bindings that held you up and kept your legs spread out. Your vision was blurry and you chanced a glance over to him. He stood a few ilms away, his expression once again intense, searching.

And still he finds nothing.

There was the briefest of movement, a small twitch of the eye; he was disappointed.

“You would speak of me,” you panted out, “but are you not the same?” There, you threw it out there, the words that hung in your mind, “are your actions not born of selfishness? Of a need to find belonging once more?”

The tick in his jaw was more prominent, your words hit their intended mark. You realized that at each encounter it was becoming easier and easier to read his subtle movements and expressions.

That scared you as much as it exhilarated you.

This wasn’t right. This wasn’t healthy. This intense mix of conflicting extremes that occurred every time your eyes caught his. It was wrong. So very wrong.

But you were apparently a glutton for pain and torture. Because a small voice inside your head begged for more.

“Ah, but the difference between us warrior,” he paused walking to close the gap between you once more, “Is that I admit that part of my reasons are selfish. Unlike you, who parade around as a martyr for the people, while staining those pretty hands with blood.”

“I don’t have a choice!” you argued, making a half-hearted attempt to struggle against your bindings once more although you knew better. You would not be freed until he decided to free you.

“Ah do you not? Such hypocrisy,” he moved closer, forcing your eyes to meet his and holding your gaze, “At least I am honest in my genocides and slaughters. What of you, warrior? You save your own while others perish.”

“It’s not the same!”

“Is it not?” he quirked a brow, “What of the beastmen? Countless lives perished in your sense of duty, of ‘doing what’s right,’ but what of them? What would you tell their families, I wonder? For although they look not like you or I, they have families, friends, loved ones.”

“I don’t…I wouldn’t have to if they could just…”

“What? Bow down to you and yours?”

“No! That’s not…”

“Oh come now, warrior. Do not continue to delude yourself from the truth. I may lose what little respect I have left of you.”

You remained silent, the words he hurled at you stinging far more than you cared to admit.

“Finally starting to see?” he whispered, so low you barely caught it, “are you finally coming to terms with the truth? After all, ‘tis the crux of the matter, is it not? ‘Tis why you did not wish for me to continue calling you hero. You know, deep down,” you gasped at the feeling of his hands ghosting down your arms, goosebumps blooming in its wake, “you know the fallacy of that title, you know what you _really_ are.”

A sob escaped you then, eyes wide when you felt his hand settle on your hips, his fingers drawing various shapes upon your skin. You forced the words past the lump in your throat, the question felt like acid upon your tongue, “What am I?”

His eyes flashed, and you felt his hands grip at your hips, just shy of painful. Somehow your body was pressed into his, and you gasped at the feel of him. Even with all the layers of clothing he had on, there was no mistaking the state of him; the hard press of his length clearly felt against your stomach. He swooped down to nip harshly against your neck, surely leaving a bruise behind, before coming up to take your lips between his in a punishing his. “You’re nothing but a pawn,” he whispered against you, “A no body, easily replaceable, easily forgotten; just as all the other warriors of Light.”

You turned your head away, wrenching your lips from his own; biting at the inside of your cheek hard enough to draw blood, the metallic liquid coating the inside of your mouth. You refused to see him, refused to listen any further. But as always, he had different plans, and he would make you follow. His fingers brushed at your cheek, an innocent caress, before taking hold of your chin and forcing you to look back at him. “You come from nothing, you’re nothing….”

You blinked, the first of many tears held back finally making its escape. You drew in a shaky breath, the words hurting you far more than any injury you’ve sustained, far more than any betrayal you’ve felt.

“But not to me.”

He leaned forward, his thumb stroking your bottom lip while his eyes followed the movement. The next word coming out unbidden, not meant for you to hear, in a tone so soft and full of longing that your heart lurched in response.

“Persephone.”

**Author's Note:**

> Hoooooooooooooooooooo, boy. Is it hot here? No? Just me? Okay.


End file.
